Something In Between: Sequel to On The Edge of Tomorrow

Chapter 56

The afternoon quickly slipped away, and when Billy's frame filled the office doorway, I realized it was just past 6 pm.

"Burritos?" He asked, holding up a bag.

"You hate burritos," I said as I hit send on my last email of the day.

"Yes, but you love burritos. The things I do for you." He smiled. "How was your afternoon?" He asked as I followed him downstairs.

"Good: meetings, words, tired," I listed with a sigh. "Do you need your office? I mean, did you have to go in today because of me?"

"No." Billy laughed. "Believe it or not, when you own a recording studio, people expect you to show up from time to time."

"Oh, weird."

We settled into silent chewing. It felt different not having the kids around to fill the space with volume.

"Do you like being a studio owner rather than a recording artist?" I asked between bites.

"Well, I'm still a recording artist; I mean, the last time I checked, my contract was still valid," he teased.

"You know what I mean."

He thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I like it. I enjoy helping people get a platform to create. Tim is surprisingly good at the operations stuff. I mean, I pay attention because, you know, it's Tim. But I trust him so I can hang out more on the creative side."

I silently nodded.

"Do you like what you do?" He prodded.

"You don't know what I do, do you?" I scolded him.

"I honestly don't. I hear words filter out from your calls, most of which are acronyms of a foreign language."

"Now you know how I feel when you talk about the bits and pieces on your guitar."

"Mmhmm, you still didn't answer my question."

I thought for a moment. "I do. It's exhausting because I mostly manage people, so I have to weigh strategic and tactical with emotional responses. But I enjoy seeing people develop full-on careers that they're passionate about."

"You mean helping people like you get a platform to succeed?" He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Sounds like our work isn't all that different."

"Guess not." I shrugged.

After another pause for chewing, Billy began again. "Does it bother you when I go into the studio? I mean, do you get lonely here?"

My mind filtered to all those years ago when I'd been alone in a hotel room waiting for Billy to return. The isolation of being in a strange town with no one to join my explorations.

"No, I'm not lonely. I'm on calls all day. Honestly, it feels like I'm in Portland when I'm working, just with fewer stairs between meetings." I let out a laugh at how silly it sounded.

"Good, because I probably should start going in more. There was a bit of a frenzy when I got in this afternoon."

"Oh, look at you with a work fan club," I teased.

"Yeah, not that kind of frenzy." He rolled his eyes as he balled up his empty burrito wrapper.

"Dance with me," Billy prodded after we picked up dinner.

"How can I say no? I promised Viv."

"If I recall, this is one of your favorites," Billy said as he dropped the needle on At Last and pulled me into his arms. "So, you made a promise to Viv?"

"Mmhmm, dance parties with Dad; he likes them." I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I do like dance parties," he agreed as he swung me smoothly to the music.

It all whirled by too fast. In short order, we were on the couch listening to Blood on the Tracks. I contorted my body so I could tuck my feet into the crux of my knees for warmth. Billy noticed and pulled a blanket down from the back of the couch to cover us both. Then, I felt his hands circle my ankles as he pulled my feet to his lap and cupped them in his hands for warmth.

"Lil," he began, but his words failed him.

I pulled myself closer to him, letting myself curl deeper into his warmth. He absently kissed my forehead.

"Lil, how long do you think you'll stay?" Bob Dylan's warble of moving, leaving, returning, and questioning; matched his question's tone.

"I don't know; as long as you need. Are you getting sick of me?" It felt wrong to tease at the moment, but there was nothing else I could do.

"Never," he murmured as he kissed my forehead again.

"I promised Viv I'd be here when she got back, so at least that long."

The mood became even more subdued as Simple Twist of Fate began.

"It's our song," he whispered.

"I thought only I thought of this as our song."

"I learned long ago that you're right more often than not."

He pulled my leg further to his side, so I was almost entirely on his lap with my head resting on his chest. We listened in silence.

"Lil," Billy broke the quiet, "stay with me tonight."

His question was as clear as the two pleading eyes staring back at me. I'd been staying with him. I'd been sharing a bed with him. It was a quiet request and not one from a place of lust. It was a plea to heal. He didn't realize that I needed it as much as he did. I pulled myself from his lap and held out a hand to him.

"Are you sure?" He murmured as he stood from the couch.

"I love you, Billy."

Billy and I had sex many times before. At times, it had been sweet and gentle, and other times had given way to lustful passion. This was neither. Something happened between us that if I had shared it with anyone but Billy, it would've left me in crumpled confusion. Instead, it was beautiful. Over the last decade, we had shared as lovers, friends, and family. All of it fed into a physical connection. The pain of fights, break-ups, and divorces. The love of friends, family, and children. The highs of success and the lows of failure. It all coursed between us in a soaring set of emotions.

As I lay there, with Billy's head buried into my neck as he struggled to grasp what had occurred, I let my fingers slip through his hair. Just as the strands pulled slightly on my fingers, a tear pulled from the grasp of my eyelashes and fell to the pillow.

It was a moment of love. Billy and I always had love with all its broken, healing, painful, and joyful parts.